


He Came Upon A Midnight Clear

by psychomachia



Category: Christmas Tales & Traditions
Genre: Drinking & Talking, Krampus's Love Life, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:20:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29260368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychomachia/pseuds/psychomachia
Summary: The problem with dating Santa is that he comes with so much baggage.
Relationships: Santa Claus/Krampus
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	He Came Upon A Midnight Clear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpikedCoffee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpikedCoffee/gifts).



“You guys don't get it,” Krampus said morosely, his horns knocking a few of the glasses over on the table. “Like he's the fucking perfect guy – great with kids, has his own vehicle, that ass--”

Gryla snorted. “Please,” she said. “No man is perfect. Take it from someone who's on her third husband – one minute, he's at your side, scooping up kids left and right and you think, oh, this is the one,' and the next thing you know, he's lying on his ass in the cave and your only option is either the kid that steals candles or the one that stalks sheep.”

Jólakötturinn mewed in agreement before burping out an old shoe.

“No, but seriously,” Krampus said. “Like what do I even get someone like that? He's got his own workshop and what do I have? Some old branches? Bells? Chains--” He stopped. “Well, okay, he likes that one, but I already got him that for our anniversary. And Valentine's is coming up and--”

“Oh, for fuck's sake,” Perchta said, pulling out a handkerchief and carefully wiping down the table and her glass before letting out a delicate sniff. “Just get him some flowers or a few bones or something. You're overthinking this.”

“He always does,” Gryla agreed. “Remember when he wanted our advice on a good romantic spot? Kept bitching that the lava fields were too hot and the glaciers too cold? Fucking picky.”

She high-hoofed Mari Lwyd, who grinned and lets it teeth clatter in amusement. A cavernous voice echoed from its skull. “You should just get him drunk and invite him back to your place.”

“Have you seen my house?” Krampus asked. “Like he's got a whole village thing going on and what do I have? Like a tiny-ass hut and a few bottomless pits?”

“Well, obviously, you must be doing something right, because he's still with you,” Perchta said, primly knocking back her scotch. “Belsnickel says you two seemed positively smitten.”

“Belsnickel's a fucking asshole who sticks his nose in where it's not wanted,” Krampus grumbled. “I can't believe I ever hung out with the guy.”

Gryla snorted. “Everyone knows you have a type, darling,” she said. “It's no secret that a long beard and some candy and suddenly the big bad monster is purring and eating out of your hand.”

“Fuck you,” he replied amiably.

“I think that's reserved for someone else,” Mari Lwyd said and stamped his hooves, grinding the glass into dust.

“But seriously,” Krampus said to a chorus of resounding groans, “what do I get for the guy?”

* * *

Krampus was laid flat out on the table when the door opened with a crash, letting in a blast of snow and wind that sent the unbroken glasses swaying from above.

“Sorry if he was too much trouble,” Santa boomed, cheerfully smiling at everyone not passed out or unconscious from primal fear of the terrifying unknown. “He really shouldn't drink too much.”

Gryla nudged Perchta awake, who had fallen asleep on her shoulder. Mari Lwyd had knocked over a table after he collapsed, and Jólakötturinn had taken advantage of it by precariously balancing on top of his open jaw. “Not a problem,” Gryla said. “But word to the wise, don't let him try anything tonight. He probably wouldn't even be able to keep it up long enough to stick it in.”

Perchta let out a surprisingly girlish giggle. “Honestly,” she said. “How he ever managed to bed you, I'll never know.”

Santa nodded solemnly, then hoisted Krampus over his shoulder like he was one of his sacks. He patted his ass gently and maneuvered over Jólakötturinn, who lazily swiped at him. “I'm going to let him sleep it off and we'll have a long talk in the morning,” he said softly. “But I would like to make one thing clear.”

Gryla and Perchta blinked up at him.

“I'm the one who picked him up,” Santa whispered, his voice like silver bells in the night. “Call it a present to myself for being a good boy.”

With another gust of wind, the door blew open shut once again, and Krampus and Santa were gone into the night.

“Huh,” Mari Lwyd said, having managed to push the hissing cat off his head. “I always knew Krampus was a bottom.”


End file.
